The Recruiter
by TheBullette
Summary: A woman is sent by the FBI in order to poach Abby away from NCIS, but will her unorthodox strategy prove effective? Rating changed to M for future content. *CHAPTER 10 UP*
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own any intellectual property pertaining to the NCIS series. **

**A/N: Reviews are appreciated. This will be continued in several more chapters.  
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><p>The elevator in the NCIS bullpen dinged at exactly 11:57 am. All members of the team looked up expectantly from their boring paperwork, eyes hopeful, eager for an exciting new distraction. Unfortunately for Ziva, the only excitement came in the form of an impeccably dressed, pretty blonde woman in her early thirties. Tony immediately leapt from his chair, preening.<p>

"Very Special Agent Anthony Dinozzo, I'm in charge here, is there something that I can help you with, Miss…?"

The woman immediately went from having a somewhat severe expression to actually sneering at him. It was a very ugly thing for such an attractive woman to do, and it was fairly obvious that she was doing it out of derision for Tony's attempt at flirtation. His cocky grin faltered and he took a step back from her, sensing that this was not a woman who would be receptive to his particular brand of charm.

The woman, identity still unknown, tapped at her phone briefly before narrowing her eyes and slipping it back into her purse.

"Abby Sciutto. Is she ready for me?"

Tony turned on his heel and raised an eyebrow at McGee, no longer eager to have anything to do with this woman. McGee took his cue and stood up to address the woman with both confusion and wariness.

"I'm sorry, and you are…?"

She rolled her eyes impatiently, annoyed by their reluctance to answer her simple question.

"Here on behalf of the FBI, Mr. McGee. I was told an Agent Gibbs would be provided advance notice of my visit via email. By the way, I would like to personally thank you for providing me with so much valuable information."

Tony and Ziva gave each other knowing looks, realizing now that this woman's visit should have been expected, if only Gibbs bothered to check his emails every once in a while. Meanwhile, McGee was becoming visibly upset.

"I'm sorry, but I don't even know who you are, so I don't see how I could have given you whatever valuable information it is you're talking about. And how did you know who I am? And just what the hell do you want with Abby?"

"At ease, McGee.", Gibbs instructed as he walked into their view, appearing from his expression to be equally perturbed by the woman's presence.

"No Agent Fornell this year, I see. Brass getting tired of him not being able to seal the deal?"

The woman smirked at Gibbs. "Something like that. Thought they'd try a new avenue…someone with a bit more…persuasiveness."

Gibbs assessed the woman. She seemed arrogant and cold. He doubted she was going to be very successful when it came to persuading his Abby.

"Ziva, go get Abby."

Ziva quickly obliged, striding away from her desk and towards the elevator.

"Must have missed that email. What was your name again, agent?"

"I'm not an 'Agent'. I'm a consultant to the FBI. Jessica Forsythe."

Gibbs waited, expecting her to extend her hand to shake his, but it never happened. In fact, she was focusing again on the screen of her smart phone, smirking to herself. Gibbs rolled his eyes as he turned to make his exit, but McGee quickly stepped into his path and began speaking quietly enough that the woman wouldn't be able to hear.

"Is she here to try to get Abby to leave? What kind of consultant do you think she is, boss?"

"Easy, Mcgee. You and I both know that Abby isn't going anywhere."

He raised his voice so that the woman would be able to hear him.

"The FBI is wasting their time."

The woman merely raised her eyebrows and smiled in a way that made McGee and Tony nervous. Gibbs stared at her, now also wondering to himself about the exact kind of consulting she did for the FBI. She did seem unusually sure of herself when it came to her assigned task. It bothered him more than he would normally let himself be bothered. He continued staring at her as the elevator dinged, announcing Ziva and Abby's arrival.

"Ah! Ms. Sciutto. It's a pleasure to meet you. I trust you are ready for our lunch appointment? I was thinking Makoto, that's if you like sushi."

She had put on an entirely different persona the second Abby had come into view. She now seemed friendly and light-hearted. Gibbs and his team looked amongst each other, acknowledging that Abby would be predisposed to liking a woman with this personality, however fake the rest of them now knew it to be.

"That sounds great! I love sushi. Sorry I wasn't ready when you came in; Agent Fornell usually calls before picking me up. But I'm all set now and wow, now that you mention sushi, I'm totally starving."

The two women walked to the elevator, the blonde beginning to engage Abby in a seemingly animated and fun conversation. As the doors opened and they stepped inside, Gibbs began to walk out of the bullpen towards the hallway. Tony waited until the elevator doors had closed before addressing the entire room.

"Is it just me, or did that woman make anybody else nervous?"

He had been expecting McGee or Ziva to agree with him. So it came as somewhat of a shock when, as he rounded the corner and stepped out of their view, Gibbs could be heard somberly responding, "Not just you, Dinozzo."


	2. Chapter 2

The FBI consultant requested a booth upon their arrival at the restaurant. Once they were seated, she immediately picked up the wine and drink menu. Abby's eyes were focused on the extensive list of special rolls and sushi, which all looked particularly delicious thanks to a stomach that had only been provided a Caf-Pow for breakfast. Forsythe looked over Abby's hair, makeup, clothing, and exposed tattoos. She figured she had about an hour to make Abby realize that she would be better off leaving NCIS, and she was confident that she had all the information that anyone with her particular skill set would need.

"Would you like to share a bottle of sake? They have one here that I always get; I haven't found it anywhere else. It's the best."

Abby was somewhat taken aback. "Oh, I mean, that sounds really great but actually I probably shouldn't, since I'm going back to work and everything. So, do you have to go back to work after this?"

Forsythe laughed. "I actually do, but I pretty much work for myself. That is, unless I get a consulting job. But it's nice to have one that's only going to take an hour. Usually they take weeks."

Abby was about to ask why the FBI had thought it as worth hiring her for just an hour to talk to her anyway, as well as what type of consulting she did, when the waitress stepped up to their table and asked if they would like to start with anything to drink.

Forsythe ordered a glass of her sake, hot. Abby asked for a sparkling water with a twist of lime. Their conversation having been interrupted, Abby refocused on determining what she wanted to order. Forsythe knew exactly what she was ordering, but pretended to look over her menu as she took frequent glances at Abby. The woman was dressed exactly as described in McGee's "fictional" novels. Her demeanor and facial expressions matched as well. If everything in the books mirrored the real life of the forensic scientist, this was going to be a very easy acquisition for the FBI.

The waitress returned with their drinks and asked if they were ready to order. Abby had checked off a couple of rolls on their sushi list, so she passed that to the waitress and also ordered herself a salad with ginger dressing. Forsythe ordered the same. After all, she had planned on ordering the same thing as Abby no matter what. She needed to almost instantly create a perceived affinity with her subject. Unfortunately for her, she hated sushi, but she would grin and bear it, then excuse herself to the bathroom to vomit the second she was finished chewing. Just one of the sacrifices she made for flexible hours and the ever enjoyable opportunity to manipulate another human being's will.

As the waitress walked away to submit their order, Abby opened her mouth to put forth some questions as to the exact nature of Forsythe's job. Forsythe cut her off before she could speak.

"So! It's great that I'm lucky enough to have lunch with such an interesting person for once. I get intel from the FBI all the time about solved cases where NCIS contributed, and a lot of them benefited greatly from your involvement. NCIS is lucky to have someone so skilled on their team. Needless to say, the FBI is pretty jealous!" She grinned at Abby, anticipating the response.

"Oh, well, that's really sweet of you, but it all happens thanks to a team effort."

"Of course, of course. It must be nice when you do get recognition as an individual for your great work, though. I only met Gibbs briefly, but he seems like the kind of person who would give credit where it's due."

Abby smiled and nodded enthusiastically at the accuracy of the woman's assessment. "Definitely! Gibbs is the best. He always gives me a reward when I do a good job. It's nice to have something to look forward to at work, you know?"

Forsythe laughed. "You're right. Every time I succeed at my job, I reward myself with a spa day." She shrugged and tilted her head. "Or, the FBI throws a little surprise party in my honor. It's always surprised me that they're so generous with someone who's not even really a member of their team. It makes me wonder how they reward their agents. And their forensic scientists." She winked at Abby just as they received their food.

Abby internally rolled her eyes, guessing that the purpose of this lunch was to lure her over the FBI with promises of extravagant parties and monetary rewards for simply doing her job. That kind of thing really didn't interest her. Sure, she didn't mind the occasional party, but she would just assume have it be in somebody else's honor.

"Oh…well, I certainly think I'm valued enough by NCIS. Actually, I know I am. Like I said, I get rewarded in a way that makes me know that I'm appreciated."

"Right. You mentioned before that Gibbs specifically takes care of that. Now tell me, were you referring to the Caf-Pows he brings you, or was it maybe something else? I suppose I should tell you at this point that I've read McGee's novels. They were so suspenseful, I couldn't put them down! So I was just wondering what the more enjoyable reward was for you…a nice, icy Caf-Pow? Or maybe it's the kiss on the cheek from the boss with the icy blue eyes?"


	3. Chapter 3

a/n: I'm in CT and I didn't have power for a week. Would have had this done sooner otherwise! Meanwhile...well, just keep in mind that it's far from over.

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><p>Forsythe winked at Abby's chagrinned expression, smiling conspiratorially.<p>

"Don't worry! I'm not judging anything. I'm pretty jealous, myself. No fun distractions from any of the FBI guys. Sometimes I wish one of the hotter agents would at least flirt with me a little bit when I come in, but they're all so focused on the job they don't even notice my low-cut tops. It must be nice to work for someone who's not so uptight, and appreciates you for a woman instead of just a scientist."

She casually sipped her sake, knowing exactly the thought processes occurring within Abby. Abby began to blush, wondering if the woman was intentionally insinuating that her relationship with Gibbs wasn't entirely professional.

"We're all pretty much a family. That's how it is, I mean…Gibbs is like the protective father to all of us. It's not, um, like…_sexual,_ or anything inappropriate. I guess I can't blame somebody for not understanding, but I don't really appreciate your assumption."

She could feel herself almost shaking from indignation. How dare this woman accuse her of participating in any kind of inappropriate conduct. Abby knew what her relationships were founded on, and Forsythe was demonstrating an astonishing amount of ignorance in her eyes.

Forsythe gave the appearance of being abashed by Abby's statement. Her eyes widened and she opened her palm up and held it to her chest.

"Oh, my gosh! I'm so embarrassed…I, I mean, I just kind of went from what I read in McGee's books. I was given the impression that they were almost entirely based on fact. But I guess that makes sense, I mean, he must have been exaggerating a lot. I should have known that you don't wear short little skirts and platform boots at work regularly. You're obviously just wearing them today because you're dressing up for Halloween! God, I can be a complete dolt sometimes, honestly."

She shook her head, seemingly in amazement at her own stupidity, and took a long drink of sake before bulldozing on.

"And really, ha! That Gibbs would lean into you and whisper the way he does in the book, and give you massages, that's some great imagery but I really should have known better. I can see why you're upset about the impression I had of your relationship with Gibbs. I shouldn't have based it on the books alone, I apologize. You know, I would probably be pretty upset with McGee if I were you! If anybody knows that you were the inspiration for that character, they're probably making the same assumption about you and Gibbs that I did…Oh, my God! Imagine how embarrassing! Well, I'm sure glad you set the record straight with me. To be honest, I came into this wondering how you could possibly be a proper fit for the FBI but now I feel just awful for questioning that. I guess that's what you get for judging a book by its cover, right?"

She kept an expression of well-meaning ingenuousness glued to her face as she smiled at Abby. The waitress arrived to check on them just as the red color in Abby's face was approaching that of a raspberry.

Forsythe broke apart her chopsticks and began eating her salad, hoping internally that Abby would storm out before she had to go through with the charade of eating any raw fish.

Abby had no idea what to say. She had denied having an inappropriate working relationship with Gibbs, and so the woman had assumed that the content of McGee's books were untrue to reality. But they weren't. She behaved in real life exactly as she did in McGee's novels. So this is how it sounded to people? This is what they thought of her behavior? It had always seemed perfectly natural, the way she and Gibbs interacted with each other. She never felt like the way she dressed was overly provocative, either. Was she really perceived as such a ridiculous character? She knew her coworkers cared about her, and that they really were a family. But what part did she play? Was she the perky teenager? She was far from that, age-wise, but she still dressed youthfully. Maybe a little too youthfully. And maybe she was a little too sassy at work. She could probably stand to tone it down, she thought.

She wouldn't change who she was, she assured herself of that, but she might benefit from adjusting her behavior slightly at work. After all, if what Forsythe had said about the perception about her character in the books was true, she had some growing up to do if she wanted to be taken even remotely seriously. And maybe then, Gibbs and the rest of the team wouldn't feel like they had to worry about protecting her. That was what she hated the most, when things ended up that way. She didn't want to be the dependent little sister in their family dynamic. She wouldn't mind being the self-assured, put-together mother figure for once. The thought of impressing someone with her demeanor alone, rather than her proficiency at her job, made her feel something on the verge of whimsy.

Forsythe had been watching Abby as she stared wordlessly and motionlessly at her food. The redness in her face had faded, and she had taken on an expression of calm understanding. Forsythe knew it would have either come to this, or righteous fury. She was a little perturbed by the lack of fury, due to the pile of fish still awaiting consumption in front of her, but she knew the goal had been accomplished nonetheless. Abby Sciutto's confidence had faltered. She would be altering her natural behavior.

Forsythe allowed herself a small smile. _And from there, _she imagined as she pinched the first piece of sushi between her chopsticks, _it's only a matter of time._


	4. Chapter 4

*A/N: Sorry this took forever. It's getting there! Back to the bullpen next chap. Please review, all feedback welcome.

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><p>Abby finished her lunch and smiled at Forsythe, thanking her for the meal. Forsythe was hardly listening. She put on a brave face and smiled back, excusing herself from the table to wash her hands. Luckily, she had done her research on the restaurant ahead of time and knew where the bathroom was located. She cut deftly through the seating area and burst into the ladies' room, slamming open the door to the first visible stall. She positioned her face over the toilet and jammed her finger into her mouth, aiming for her uvula. She immediately started gagging, then began to vomit the sushi she had just consumed. Once finished, she flushed the toilet and exited the stall to find a teenage girl at the sink, eyeing her in the mirror with a concerned expression.<p>

"You know that corrodes the enamel on your teeth, and causes them to rot?"

Forsythe grinned maliciously at the girl and walked to the next sink, beginning to wash her hands before responding.

"Luckily, I don't make it a habit. And I take fabulous care of my teeth and body, thank you for your concern. In fact, while we're here in this public restroom sharing valuable information as if we weren't strangers, I might as well tell you that you have an ugly face with horrible skin. Gosh, I hope that was helpful to you."

She finished drying her hands and tossed her paper towel in the garbage before striding out of the bathroom. The girl, only fourteen, remained standing there for several minutes trying not to let herself cry. Unfortunately, she was a genuinely sensitive person. She remained in the bathroom, sobbing, until her mother finally found her.

Once Forsythe had returned to the table, she paid their bill in cash and asked Abby if she had anything pressing to get back to at work.

"Oh, well I don't have any evidence pending processing in the lab, but…"

"Perfect! See, I was going to do some shopping at Potomac Mills and I had a friends and family coupon for GAP with nobody to go with who could use it. If you don't have to get back to work, I would love it if you could come with me. I understand if you can't, but I just thought it would be fun to spend some time with you outside intra-bureau politics. You seem like you'd be an awesome shopping buddy."

She beamed, forcing sincerity into her eyes. Abby was somewhat surprised that the woman was interested in spending time with her after only having met her as a job requirement, but she figured that if she planned on dressing more conservatively at work, shopping with Forsythe would be a logical first step.

"That's really sweet of you! I'd be happy to go, I just want to check in with Gibbs and make sure nothing's come up while we've been out. Here, let's head outside so we're not holding up the table and I'll give him a call, ok?"

"Of course!"

They exited the restaurant, Abby pulling out her cell phone and dialing number 1 on her speed dial.

"Gibbs"

"Hi Gibbs! I was wondering if there was anything for me to do back at the lab, cuz Ms. Forsythe invited me out with her to do a little shopping after our lunch. I just wanted to make sure you didn't need me."

Gibbs thought briefly of what the honest response would have been before providing the more appropriate one.

"We're good here, Abs. Go do your thing. Have fun."

"Thanks Gibbs! I'll be back later. Call me if anything comes up. Bye!"

Gibbs ended the call, questioning to himself wryly if Abby ever stopped to consider that the word "need" had many different connotations.

Abby tossed her phone back into her purse and smiled at Forsythe.

"I guess we're good to go! Thanks again for asking me to go shopping with you, I really could use some new Winter things so this is, like, totally perfect."

"Of course! It's my pleasure. I don't meet a lot of new people, and you're a breath of fresh air from the business associates I have. They're usually uber stuffy."

As they began walking towards her car, Forsythe kept her eyes open for the homeless man she had promised five dollars to if he could manage to be in the same place she had seen him yesterday. As expected, he was sitting on a bench in their path to the car, wrapped in several dirty blankets.

Forsythe gently touched Abby's arm as they approached the bench and frowned, seeming to express sadness at the poor man's plight. She reached into her purse and pulled out the five dollar bill, crouching down beside the man to hand it to him. She touched his shoulder as she stayed there for a moment, out of Abby's earshot. Abby assumed the woman was speaking kind words to the man, as she would have been inclined to do. Abby smiled to herself, glad that the woman she would be spending the afternoon with was good-hearted and generous.

As they walked away from the bench, the man looked after them, his face scarred with years of humiliation and dehumanization. As the woman had given him the five dollars and leaned in to speak to him, he had expected that she would have an expression of kindness in her eyes, like the rare person in his daily life that was willing to provide him some charity. But he had been taken aback by the spite in her face even more than her words.

"This is the most anyone in the world will ever need you. You are a burden on society. I hope I never have to look at another piece of shit like you for the rest of my life."

He didn't dare to say anything back to her, mostly because of how grateful he still was just to have the five dollars, but also due to the almost insane glint in her eye when she had spoken. He shuddered a bit, wrapping himself tighter in his blankets, and looked to the next set of pedestrians. He sighed, daring to hope that his day would get better, in whatever small ways a person like him could have their day improved.

As they got to the car, Abby smiled at Forsythe.

"That was nice of you."

Forsythe smiled back. She couldn't wait to get this over with. This woman's perkiness was getting on her nerves. Luckily, all she had to do was influence Abby's purchases today and give her some ideas about "appropriate work behavior". And in the end, it would be her and the FBI who reaped the benefits.


	5. Chapter 5

*A/N: A welcome reprieve from She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, then things get a little more serious and a lot more revealing. Also, later content is expected to require an upped rating to M.

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><p>Abby decided it would be fun to surprise everybody with one of her new outfits when she got back to work, so she changed into one of them at home after ending her afternoon out with Ms. Forsythe. As she changed, she thought about how helpful it had been to have Forsythe with her while she had been shopping. She had ended up buying 2 pencil skirts, 3 pairs of pants, and she didn't even know how many tops. Not to mention the heels. She had actually thought they were a little risqué, but Forsythe had insisted that with the right outfits they would be "sexy but still professional".<p>

She zipped up the back of a new snugly-fitting skirt and checked herself in the mirror. With her heels on, she was finding it hard to believe that she looked professional, considering how prominently her butt seemed to stick out. She frowned self-consciously, figuring that the pig tails were creating a bit too much of a school girl look when combined with the button-down shirt. She pulled her hair out of their ties and ran some finishing cream through the strands, hoping to add a little bit of polish to the new look. She tucked her shirt more firmly into her skirt, checking for any bumps and creases, then put on the wide red patent belt that "completed the ensemble". She admired herself in the mirror briefly before breaking out into a grin. Her new work attire was so different and sophisticated, she could hardly believe she actually looked great in it.

Suddenly, she felt her smile start to slip away, as the image of the homeless man on the bench from earlier in the day came randomly into her mind. She had always possessed a strong sense of empathy, and anyone in such a situation usually remained at the forefront of her thoughts for a long period of time. She could picture his face, and his expression when they had approached the bench. In fact, while they had been walking towards the car, she had thought to look back at him. Reflecting on it now - and she was unsure of whether or not it was only her imagination - he had looked substantially more worn and demoralized after receiving the money from Forsythe. She thought about it briefly but, understanding that she couldn't possibly know the man's experiences or motivations, realized trying to explain his facial expressions was an exercise in futility.

She left the house with a bounce in her step and left her car the same way as she headed into the NCIS building. She had only been gone for 4 hours total, and had checked in with Gibbs every half hour to make sure her services were not urgently required. She knew that he would have called her if they had caught a case with any evidence for her to go over, but she wasn't used to being outside of her lab during work hours. She felt a little guilty, and wanted to make doubly sure that Gibbs wasn't watching the clock and waiting impatiently for her to return. Despite all of his admirable qualities, Abby had to admit that patience was not a virtue for Gibbs.

She strode confidently through the lobby, blushing a little bit when she noticed men literally stopping in their tracks to stare. She stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the NCIS office floor. She could feel the nervous excitement building in the pit of her stomach and tried to suppress the grin that kept breaking out across her face. The elevator stopped and she steeled herself for the reactions of her coworkers. The doors slid open and she planted her first high heel onto the floor.

The first thing she could hear, before she had even fully appeared or could see anyone looking at her, was a low whistle coming from the direction of Tony's desk. Abby grinned and stepped fully out of the elevator, shocking everyone into silence as they realized it was her who belonged to the sexy shoes.

"Abby! Wow! Look at you!" Ziva leapt from her seat and rushed over to Abby, putting her hands on each of Abby's arms before looking her up and down in astonishment. Abby looked past her towards Tony, who was opening and closing his mouth like a fish, apparently at a loss for words. Abby thought briefly that miracles did exist before he finally figured out something to say.

"Nice shoes."

Abby laughed. "Thanks Tony. Where's McGee?"

"Gibbs has him babysitting a suspect in the other room."

"What! You guys caught a case and Gibbs didn't call me? Where's the evidence? Where's Gibbs?"

Zive chimed in as Abby spun around and began charging towards the elevator.

"Abby, relax! There is no evidence yet. The 'suspect' was reported by someone who made an anonymous 911 call and said this man had murdered a marine. That's all we have since the suspect is claiming total ignorance, but Gibbs has us researching missing persons cases and trying to place the caller."

"Oh. Ok. Whew! I almost had a heart attack back there. Wow. I'll be ok. So where is Gibbs anyway?"

This time Tony piped up. "He's in MTAC, not sure what for. Just went up a few minutes ago."

Just as Tony finished speaking, Gibbs appeared on the upper floor, walking briskly towards the stairs and descending them with apparent purpose.

"Gear up, we got a…" He had just grabbed his coat off the back of his chair, and had been in the middle of his sentence as he had finally looked up to see Abby. He hadn't just stopped talking, he had also stopped moving, and seemed to be deep in thought as he let his gaze roam over her entire body. His eyes seemed brighter to her than normal as she assessed him, trying to gauge his reaction to her new appearance.

Finally, he gave her one of his lop-sided smiles before resuming his stride across the bullpen.

"Looking good, Abs."

His voice seemed to come out with a huskier tone than usual, Abby thought. Or was that just her imagination? Tony and Ziva looked at each other, raising their eyebrows and trying to communicate via ESP before Gibbs looked around and realized they weren't following him. He rolled his eyes and turned around, guessing he just hadn't made it clear enough the first time.

"DEAD MARINE."

"On your six, boss!" Tony grimaced at Ziva as he rushed from his desk, desperately hoping that he wasn't about to receive a head slap. Ziva was immediately at his side, and as they all filled the elevator Abby waved enthusiastically at them.

"See you guys soon! I'll be here! Waiting for evidence! K bye!"

She turned around and walked away exuberantly…unaware that Gibbs had strained his neck ever-so-slightly to catch a glimpse of the view between the closing elevator doors.


	6. Chapter 6

a/n: Thanks everybody for your continued interest, and now we're really getting somewhere. Reviews appreciated, all feedback welcome.

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><p>The next few days of the investigation produced a cumbersome amount of evidence for Abby to process. Individual dried leaves with blood spatter had to be analyzed, molds of several different tire tracks had been taken, and the actual murder weapon proved difficult to identify. The entry wounds that Ducky found during the autopsy had been very large for any kind of handheld implement, and had left no residual material for Abby to run through Major Mass Spec. She was exhausted, and Gibbs was so busy running down leads on the connection between the suspect and the victim that she had barely seen him.<p>

Finally, they had gotten a break in the case when it was discovered that the suspect had met the victim through Alcoholics Anonymous. The weapon had turned out to be the pointed base of a large brass cross that was stored in one of the rooms at the church where the meetings were held. They still hadn't determined the identity of the witness who had called and reported the murder, but they were confident that the suspect would point them in the right direction once they exhibited all the evidence they'd compiled against him.

The team was once again hunched over paperwork at their desks, but after such a daunting case, they were all more tired than bored. They had been documenting the details of the investigation for hours, and they couldn't wait to just finish and be able to go home. This time, when the elevator dinged, no one bothered looking up. As it happened, the person stepping out onto the floor of the NCIS office was FBI Agent Tobias Fornell.

He raised an eyebrow at the site of the bleary-eyed crew before him, dismayed by their obvious disinterest in his arrival.

"Hi! Gibbs around?"

He nearly shouted it, and achieved his desired effect. Ziva, McGee, and Tony all jumped in their chairs and stared wide-eyed at him. Fornell chuckled and shook his head.

"Guess he has you guys burning the midnight oil, as usual? I just wanted to ask him about something, is he in MTAC?"

Tony responded first, letting Fornell know that Gibbs had gone home after informing the wife and daughter of the victim that they had caught the murderer.

"Ok, thanks. I'll just head over to his place then. And guys, come on…don't work too hard."

He smiled at them before turning and pressing the button for the elevator. Once inside, his face reverted back to the expression it had been wearing all day: worry. If the suspicions he had been experiencing the past week were in any way warranted, then he thought Gibbs should absolutely be the first person to know.

Gibbs poured an extra glass of bourbon as he heard his front door close. He watched as Fornell's shiny black loafers traversed his basement steps, surprised that out of everyone who tended to walk down those stairs, it wasn't anyone on his team. He had thought that maybe Abby would visit, after showing concern about how the case that had taken a husband and father away from his family might be affecting him.

"Hey, Tobias. Whatchya doin' in my basement?" He passed the glass of bourbon to the FBI agent, genuinely curious as to what had warranted this visit.

"I'm concerned, Jethro. Word around the office is, upper management already sent somebody out to take Abby on our yearly 'Please come and work for us' lunch. Other word is, nobody knows who the hell it was. What I don't understand is why I can't get any information about it. Every time I ask, I get told it's 'above my pay grade'. Can you believe that? Above my pay grade, my ass. All I wanted to know is who they sent. If it was an agent, why couldn't they just tell me? That's no big deal, right? So I was thinking, it must not be an agent. That's why I'm here, Jethro. I need to ask you who this person was."

Gibbs smiled and allowed himself a small laugh.

"Why does it matter, Tobias? Abby isn't going anywhere. But since you're so interested, I can tell you it wasn't an agent. You're right on that one, and her name was Forsythe. Never did find out much else about her."

Gibbs began to raise his glass to his lips just as Fornell's face went pale, and his own glass slipped through his fingers. Gibbs managed to catch it in his free hand before it had a chance to shatter all over his basement floor.

"Hey! Be careful, will ya?"

Fornell looked mystified. "Forsythe? That's impossible. They swore they would never use her again. Not after last time. They wouldn't dare."

"Whoa, Tobias. Here, sit down." Gibbs was eyeing Fornell now with a certain amount of wariness. The man seemed shaken, and Gibbs still had no idea what could have caused it.

As Fornell sat down, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Jethro. Forsythe is a criminal psychologist. A few years back, the bureau interviewed her for a position. The only thing I know about it is that something prevented them from putting her on payroll. What they did do, every once in a while when they deemed it 'necessary', was hire her as a sort of consultant. Let's say we had a suspect no one could break in interrogation. That's when they'd bring her in. She had some way of manipulating the information out of them. So we'd see her maybe once every few months. We'd all stay out of her way, because to say that she isn't a people person would be an understatement."

"Anyway, in this one case we had a young girl - I think she was maybe nine - as the only witness to an _unbelievably_ violent murder. She had pretty much blocked it out, and none of our regular people, child psychologist included, were able to coax any information out of her. So they decided to bring in Forsythe."

Fornell sighed and shook his head, clearly disturbed by the memories he was recalling. He took a long sip of bourbon before continuing.

"She took the girl into a room. She began the way all the others had, by asking the girl what she could remember, and insisting that she try as hard as she could to provide details. When it didn't work, apparently she resorted to whatever psychological manipulation she practices on suspects. Again, I was never privy to specifics about what was said or done. All I know is what happened next. After Forsythe finished the interview, she was able to produce a recording that detailed everything the girl could remember about the incident. She apparently smirked and told the district attorney, 'That girl won't do you much good on the witness stand now, so I made sure to get this for you."

Fornell opened his eyes and looked straight at Gibbs as he finished the rest of his story.

"She was right. After she finished relaying her account of what she had witnessed, as Forsythe handed the tape over to the D.A., the girl began sobbing uncontrollably. When someone tried to approach her, she lashed out at them violently and snarled. Last I heard, she was still institutionalized, receiving treatment for PTSD. Whatever Forsythe said to her, she may have gotten the information she wanted, but she pushed too hard and permanently damaged that girl's psyche. The real kicker was, without the girl actually being there in court, the taped testimony was deemed non-credible and the killer walked. That's when the FBI said they were done with Forsythe."

Fornell finished his bourbon and placed his empty glass on a work bench.

"I don't know why they called her in for Abby, or what she's doing to try to get her over to the bureau. But I know Abby, and she's a sweetheart. She shouldn't be allowed in the same room as the likes of Forsythe. I know you care about Abby, and if I were you I'd look into this more. I've already tried, but like I said, doors slam shut in my face every time I mention the name Forsythe.

He got up and put on his jacket. "Let me know what you find out. And for the record, I think you and Abby make too good of a team. I never tried very hard to steal her from you." He winked at Gibbs and smiled before scaling the stairs, leaving Gibbs to his thoughts.


	7. Chapter 7

*A/N: Will try to update more frequently now that my family's birthday season is over. Thanks for your patience, and please review. Another chapter SOON!

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><p>"Hi, Gibbs!" Abby came strolling through the office the next morning, wearing another one of her new outfits. Gibbs allowed himself a brief moment to appreciate the way her blouse gaped just enough to hint at the beginning of her cleavage before responding in kind.<p>

"Hey, Abbs. Caf-Pow in the fridge for 'ya."

"Thanks! I actually got my own this morning, and you know you don't have to get me one unless I earn it. I haven't done anything yet today. Besides dress myself fabulously. And I tried something different with my hair, what do you think?"

She pivoted around so that her back was to him, and he let his eyes roam down to the narrow arch of her back, then to the swell of her backside, before looking back up to her hair. It was styled in a messy bun, held together by a pair of chopsticks. He found it hard not to envision the effect that pulling the chopsticks from her hair would cause; watching the abundant onyx strands fall in sleek waves around her face and over her back.

When she turned around for his answer, he smiled and responded, "Looks nice. And if you want to get takeout from that sushi place you went the other day, you won't have to use the cheap disposable chopsticks." He grinned at her, knowing she would recognize the teasing tone in his voice.

"Tsk!" She playfully slapped his arm, the usual sparkle coming into her eyes from when they engaged in such repartee. Suddenly she faltered, and the smile faded from her face. She took on a more serious expression and changed the course of their discussion to something she considered more professional.

"Do we know who called in the tip on our murderer yet?"

Gibbs searched Abby's face, trying to read her emotions. The way she had so rapidly switched gears was uncharacteristic. Was this the impact of Forsythe's influence? He thought that maybe he could test his theory a little.

"Turns out our guy felt guilty after the fact. Figured he'd head to the confession booth looking for some absolution. Whoever he confessed to knew they couldn't come forward, so they did the next best thing. Good thing we got enough evidence to force the confession, cuz a priest would never have been able to testify."

"Wow, that is a good thing. Too bad his conscience didn't kick in before he plunged the cross into the victim's abdomen, but I guess he figured 'better late than never'."

She shrugged and spun around to head back to her lab, when Gibbs stopped her with his voice.

"I was thinking if you liked that sushi place a lot, we could go there for your Birthday dinner this year."

He watched her, reading her body language. She shuffled her feet in her heels, causing him to look down at the curve of her legs briefly before rolling his eyes at himself. Then, she turned slightly to look at him before responding in what everyone referred to as her "nervous voice".

"Oh, um, well, see, I'm not really thinking that far ahead right now, and, um, I just…might want to go somewhere else…or, something. But I'll definitely let you know before then. Ok so gotta go to the lab now, bye Gibbs!"

She walked away briskly, not really providing Gibbs with an opportunity to respond. He again watched her as she walked away from him, not even bothering to chastise himself for blatantly staring at her ass. After all, he was only a man, and he allowed himself few pleasures in life. He could at least admire Abby and acknowledge his desire, even if he would never permit himself to act on it.

Thinking more about the way she had responded to his offer about their annual Birthday dinner, it was obvious that she no longer felt comfortable discussing it. Forsythe had to be involved here. He didn't know what she had told Abby, but whatever it was, he didn't want it changing their relationship. And he would do everything in his power to prevent it from causing Abby to leave NCIS.

He walked into the center of the bullpen, glancing back to make sure Abby was out of sight and earshot before addressing his team.

"McGee. I want everything we have on that FBI consultant who took Abby out the other day. Jessica Forsythe. Put it up."

McGee blinked a couple of times in confusion before saying, "Ah, ok boss."

Almost immediately, the consultant's driver's license and passport photos appeared. There was literally nothing else.

"That's all you got McGee?"

"Well boss, she doesn't have any public records to speak of. If she's a consultant to the FBI, they must have restricted access to everything but what we're looking at."

"So, get us access, McGee."

"But, boss, that would mean…"

"I know what it means, McGee. Just do it. Let me know when you have something."

With that, Gibbs walked out of the bullpen and entered the elevator. Once he was out of their site, Ziva and Tony rushed to McGee's computer and started placing bets on whether or not he would be able to hack the FBI after its latest security implementations.

McGee did his best to ignore them and began typing rapidly, slowly but surely gaining access to the FBI's restricted database. It took him several hours, mostly due to his attempts at erasing his virtual fingerprints. Finally, he was in, and he called Gibbs' cell phone. Tony handed Ziva twenty bucks, which she accepted while sticking her tongue out at him.

Gibbs arrived on the elevator just moments later. He had just been in autopsy, briefing Ducky about the situation with Forsythe.

As he entered the bullpen, he saw that the big screen was now loaded with documents, some from the FBI but many from a prominent university in Maryland. His team was huddled around the screen, McGee holding the clicker and focusing on two specific documents from the university.

"What'd you find out, McGee?"

McGee cleared his throat and began explaining the content of Forsythe's confidential file.

"Jessica Forsythe was a student in the psychology program, directed by a Professor Roger Cranston. If you look at the grades and notes that Forsythe was receiving in her classes with Cranston, it looks like she's not doing very well at all. Then, there was apparently a letter addressed to the university's president from Cranston just a couple of months into Forsythe's first semester. The contents of the letter were never included in her file, so we don't know what it said. But, the next document we come across is a letter from the university president back to Cranston, dismissing him from his position as director of the psychology program. Actually, he was fired altogether from the school. No further information about Cranston himself is included in Forsythe's file, but from that point forward, all of Forsythe's grades improve substantially. She actually graduated with honors from the program."

They all stood in thought for a while, wondering what this new information might indicate about Forsythe.

Gibbs was the first one to speak up.

"McGee, get an address for Cranston, then stay here and keep digging. Ziva, keep Abby away from all this. Especially McGee's computer. I want more intel before anybody brings this up with her. Dinozzo, you're with me. We're paying a visit to the professor."


	8. Chapter 8

*a/n: Kind of a long one guys, I hope you don't mind. Next chapter promises to be Gabby all the way! Please review, all feedback welcome and I appreciate your continued interest!

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><p>Gibbs was driving recklessly, which Tony was doing his best not to point out. His teeth were practically riveted together and his knuckles were white from clenching the sides of his seat. Finally, as they drifted around a curve and Tony felt his heart skip a beat in sheer terror, he managed to choke out a request that Gibbs take it a little easy.<p>

"You wanna drive, Dinozzo? Cuz if it turns out Forsythe is actually dangerous, I want to find out sooner rather than later. You feel comfortable having this woman hanging around Abby? You want to see how long it takes before she gets hurt?"

Despite the even tone of his voice, there was a razor edge to it, and Tony instantly regretted saying anything. He should have known better than to question Gibbs' actions when it came to Abby. He knew how strongly Gibbs felt about her by now. He often wondered exactly what kind of love there was between the two, but had pretty much worked out that it was either entirely too complicated or just none of his business.

After several hours of driving, they had arrived at Roger Cranston's home. Despite it being a bright, unseasonably warm day, all of the shades were drawn. The landscaping had clearly been neglected for a long time, and letters were overflowing from the mailbox onto the ground. Gibbs and Tony glanced at each other, sharing the same thoughts: Either Cranston hadn't lived here for a while now and didn't want anybody knowing it, or they were about to find a corpse.

They approached the door cautiously and knocked. When the door actually swung open, they were more than a little surprised. The man behind the door was pale and appeared to be malnourished. Gibbs and Dinozzo had seen a picture of Cranston in Forsythe's file, and this man seemed to bear little if any resemblance. He squinted against the glare of the sun and peered out at them before his eyes suddenly grew large with fear. Gibbs and Tony had initially assumed him to be a squatter, and were about to question him as such when the man made his move to slam the door shut.

Tony immediately shoved his foot inside the door frame, preventing the door from closing as its edge crashed into the side of his boot.

"Yeow!" Tony grimaced and looked back at Gibbs, worrying about the size of the bruise that would form on his foot later in the day. Gibbs just rolled his eyes and pushed his way through the door, grabbing the man's wrist before he could run off and hide or escape through a back door. The man went limp and began to laugh in an eerie way, sending shivers down Tony's spine.

"I knew you'd come for me eventually. Only a matter of time before she convinced somebody that I was some sort of threat, or maybe…what did she say, exactly? I think I have a right to have my professional curiosity satisfied before you make me disappear, or 'rub me out', or whatever it is you thugs do."

He glared at them miserably, arms crossed, waiting for an answer. Gibbs was in no mood to play games, and immediately pulled out his badge to identify himself.

"I'm Special Agent Gibbs, with NCIS. This is Special Agent Dinozzo. We're looking for Professor Roger Cranston, and we just have some questions for him. We have no intention of causing anybody any violence."

The man appeared to be confused as he stared at Gibbs' badge. He kept looking from the badge, to Gibbs, then back to Gibbs.

"So, you're not FBI."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow and looked over at Tony, who had perched himself on the edge of a sofa to remove his boot and tenderly rub his foot.

"Not FBI. Sorry to disappoint you. I know we're not as popular, but we like to think we're just as impressive once you get to know us."

Tony grinned at the man good-naturedly, and the stranger's demeanor became much more relaxed. He was obviously beginning to realize that they had no intention of hurting him.

"I guess if you're not FBI, I don't mind you knowing I'm Roger Cranston. I don't mind answering questions, either, as long as this isn't about Jessica Forsythe."

"We are here about Jessica Forsythe. Not here on her behalf, just looking for some information about her background. And the FBI doesn't know we're here. We aren't trying to cause you any trouble, we're just concerned about any potential harm Forsythe might cause to someone close to us. If she's a danger to society, we need to know that too."

Gibbs spoke earnestly, hoping that despite the man's initial response to their arrival, he was a reasonable man.

Tony just couldn't get past how different the man looked from the days when he was still a professor at Forsythe's alma mater, and he blurted out their first question without pretense.

"What happened to you?"

The man shifted uncomfortably, seeming momentarily to be embarrassed by his gaunt appearance. But then he stiffened up and stared bleakly at them.

"Go ahead. Ask about Forsythe."

Gibbs wasted no time, and began questioning him about the time he had spent in Forsythe's presence at the college. They learned that Cranston had initially been stunned by the intelligence she displayed in discussions, and had taken it upon himself to provide her with more challenging material so as to prevent her from becoming bored with the program. After reading her first assignment, however, he had become deeply concerned about her mental health.

"She exhibited an unparalleled understanding of human emotion. What I mean to say is, she recognizes exactly what people feel and why. The problem I was able to discern from reading her assignments was a clear inability to experience those feelings for herself. There was a distinct lack of empathy, and a pronounced disdain for what she perceived as 'the weakness of human emotion'. That was a direct quote. Before we began my course on sociopathic behaviors, I wanted to test my suspicions. I provided everyone with a personality quiz to take home, but her questions were specifically geared towards determining whether or not she was a true sociopath. She handed in the paper the next day, with a look on her face that was something I'll never forget. It was so malicious, and yet she was smiling…I almost dropped the paper as I tried to read her answers. My hands were shaking more and more as I realized just how deranged her mind truly was. And by the end, I knew she was a dangerous person. Not only because her answers had revealed her to be a certifiable sociopath, but because of the small note she had written at the very bottom of the last page."

Cranston was clearly shaken now as he recalled her exact words.

"'Thank you for recognizing how special I am. However, I must insist that you not treat me any differently from my classmates. You would be remiss in continuing to do so.'"

Tony looked around at Gibbs, then back at Cranston.

"Well that doesn't sound that bad. I mean, it was a little bit of a threat but it's not like she wrote it in blood or anything."

Cranston looked at Tony with such sadness in his eyes that Tony immediately regretted saying anything.

"No," Cranston said in a cracking voice, "it wasn't written in blood. That would have been helpful! Evidence! She _easily_ could have used it. Because when I got home at the end of that day, I walked into my house to find my dog laying…eviscerated…on my living room floor."

Cranston began sobbing then, and Tony had to look away to hide the tears in his own eyes.

Gibbs was shocked. He reached out and held Cranston's shoulder as the man cried. Gibbs could scarcely comprehend the trauma the man must have gone through. To have a companion, your best friend, taken away from you with so little dignity…he swallowed to force down the bile that had risen in his throat, both from disgust and outrage.

Gibbs spoke up, trying not to let the poor man's thoughts dwell too long on his lost friend. Judging from Cranston's physical condition, it had obviously taken a serious toll on him already.

"The letter you sent to the university president, it was about Forsythe?"

Cranston raised his head slightly, his eyes still shining with tears, and tried to compose himself.

"Yes. I had already reported the crime to the police, but none of the forensic evidence they collected could be traced back to her. I had to try to do something. It seems stupid now but at the time, I thought that if I could at least deny her any further education about the human psyche, I would be doing society a service somehow. I included with my letter a copy of her personality assessment and my clinical diagnosis. A few days later, I received my dismissal."

"I moved here shortly afterwards. I don't go out much. I feel afraid to be around people now. I know it isn't healthy. I just…I can't…recover, I suppose."

He sat for a moment, catching his breath, appearing even paler than before. He obviously wasn't used to talking this much. Then, he seemed to regain some energy.

"A few months after Forsythe's class graduated, there was an obituary in the paper for the university president's wife. They called it an 'accidental death'. I suppose you two already know that's just a nice way of saying 'suicide'. I always suspected that Forsythe had manipulated the university president in some way, be it with sex, or blackmail, or both. After seeing the obituary and considering what she had done to my dog, I became concerned that she might have been involved in the woman's death. I called the police. I even called the FBI. But by then, they had already started using her for interrogations. A couple agents would actually come by, every few months, just to make sure I was going to keep my mouth shut. I finally gave up and accepted the fact that she had made friends in places too high for me to reach."

Cranston finally became quiet for a moment while Gibbs and Tony considered the possibility that Forsythe might have been involved in a murder.

Cranston spoke up again. "If you don't mind, I'm very tired now. I hope I've been able to help you."

Gibbs smiled kindly at the man and thanked him, before handing him a card.

"This is a good friend of mine. We call him Ducky. He's a great listener, and I'm sure he would be happy to try to help you in any way he can. Give him a call whenever you need to. We're sorry for all the loss you've suffered on account of Jessica Forsythe, and I promise that we will do our best to bring justice for you."

Roger Cranston smiled back at Gibbs, a little bit of color returning to his face.

"I trust you will. Thank you."

With that, Gibbs and Tony left the man's home and returned to the car. They anticipated a long ride back to NCIS headquarters, and Gibbs would take full advantage of that time to figure out exactly how to tell Abby that her new best friend was nothing that she seemed.


	9. Chapter 9

*a/n: I'm really sorry this took me so many months to post. I had a thing going on for a while that prevented me from being able to write but I'm back and promise to be much more timely! Thanks to everyone who's still reading!

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><p>Gibbs and Tony arrived back at the office after ten o'clock , neither of them expecting anyone to still be there. As they walked off the elevator into the bullpen, they were both surprised to see Ducky sitting at Gibbs' desk. Gibbs gave Tony the go ahead to leave, despite the curious expression on the younger agent's face. Gibbs knew for a fact that Tony would be heading straight to Ziva's house to recount his experience at Cranston's, and he had no desire to delay that visit and risk two exhausted agents showing up in the morning.<p>

After Tony had backtracked onto the elevator and departed, Gibbs turned to Ducky and did the exact thing he expected Tony to be doing shortly. He described Cranston's poor physical condition and questionable mental stability, and recounted the details of their conversation. Ducky nodded somberly when Gibbs mentioned having handed Cranston his number.

"I would certainly like to try to help the poor man, although, in cases where a traumatic loss has occurred, treatment is best sought immediately afterward. Now Jethro, I am curious, how did you intend to approach our Abigail with this unsettling information about her new friend?"

"I dunno, Duck. I wanna do it fast, but I don't know how she's going to view all this. I know she isn't gonna want to pal around with Forsythe any more, but I don't want any backlash from her wanting to understand why I felt the need to investigate Forsythe in the first place."

"Well that should hardly be an issue, considering the information Agent Fornell provided to you last night. It's not as though you independently saw that Abby was becoming closer to this woman and decided to search for flaws without warrant."

"Mmm. Right." Gibbs thought about it for a moment and realized he had almost forgotten about his valid, fact-driven reasons for wanting to get Forsythe away from Abby. He had worried that, when confronted with the information about Forsythe, Abby would assume that his investigation had been based on jealousy. Of course, that was crazy. Why would Abby ever jump to that conclusion? _Because you know there's truth in there somewhere _he thought to himself.

Ducky's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I suggest you be gentle with her. Abby is an extraordinarily bright young woman. I expect she will be very hard on herself when she learns that she was tricked into a friendship by a sociopath."

Gibbs nodded in appreciation of Ducky's obvious concern for Abby. He agreed that he should be careful about how he addressed the issue with her, and thanked Ducky for the advice before saying goodnight. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. Abby was a night owl after all, and he wasn't sure why, but he thought the news might be received better in the intimacy of her home.

He pulled into her driveway fifteen minutes later, feeling a familiar sense of comfort as his headlights lit the back of her hearse. He shut off the car and sat for a moment, trying not to let himself think about how badly she was going to feel after hearing what he had to say. Seeing Abby hurt, emotionally or physically, was the last thing he ever wanted. It used to be that remembering the loss of his family made him drink at night. Finally, he was down to one glass of bourbon. But that was the one that helped hold back the worry that someday, something would happen to Abby. It was the glass that let him fall asleep at night.

He finally got out of his car and walked to her front door. He rang the bell and waited, knowing it would only take a few seconds for her to spring up off the couch and welcome him. When he had been waiting for about a minute with no answer, he began to feel anxious. He rang the doorbell again and waited, but still, no answer. He pulled out his phone and dialed 1 on his speed dial. It rang about ten times before going to voicemail.

She had to be home. It was a Wednesday night, and her hearse was in the driveway. What if something had happened with Forsythe? He supposed they could just be out, maybe at a bar, but what if he was wrong? Forsythe was a sociopath, after all. Abby could have discovered something to do with her past, and Forsythe might have decided she was too much of a liability.

The way he saw it, Gibbs had two options. He could either go home, right now, and wait until the next morning at work. Abby would most likely be there, as usual, and he could discuss things with her then. Or, he could imagine the worst and not leave until he was sure she wasn't inside, under some sort of duress, unable to answer the door. Maybe it was because it was late, and he'd been driving all day and was feeling more on-edge than usual, but at this point, option #2 seemed like the only reasonable one.

He reared back and kicked his right leg forward into the door, putting as much weight into it as possible. It was just enough to get past the extra locks he'd insisted she put on as a precaution against the exact thing he was doing. He stepped into the entryway with his gun drawn, preparing to clear each room on the lower level. Before he had taken two steps, he heard a creak coming from the top of the stairs.

"Abby?"

"Wha, GIBBS!"

He watched as two boot-clad feet stomped down the stairs, topped by long, bare legs. Abby finally came into his view, wearing a short pink nightie and holding a glock casually against the side of her hip.

"What's going on!"

"Abby…are you ok?" Gibbs holstered his weapon and approached her, relieved when she didn't back away from him out of sheer confusion. She turned around and placed her gun on a stair behind her before finishing her descent to the bottom of the stairs.

"Of course, I'm fine, is there somebody after me or something? Am I being stalked again? Nobody even told me. See, this is ridiculous, is it really at the point where I don't even get to know when I'm in danger? Why don't you tell me what's going on Gibbs!"

She stomped her foot and looked at him impatiently, expecting him to let out a resigned sigh and admit that, yes, he was trying to protect her as usual and hadn't wanted to worry her with the truth. That he was treating her like a child, as usual. So it came as a total surprise to her when he said absolutely nothing and walked straight to her before wrapping her in a tight, full-body hug.

She stood there for a moment, stunned, totally unfamiliar with this type of intimacy from Gibbs. She could feel the heat from his body and could smell his aftershave and the faint hint of sawdust aroma that came from his woodworking hobby. Slowly, she raised her arms and wrapped them around his back, returning his hug. She felt her face gently graze the side of his and a jolt of excitement coursed through her body at the sensation of his small amount of stubble against her skin.

In all the times he had kissed her on the cheek, whispered in her ear, and massaged her neck, she had felt a spark of arousal. She had to admit it. But that was just a natural reaction to physical contact from someone she found attractive, despite the platonic nature of their friendship. At least, that's what she told herself. Gibbs was more mature than her, so it wouldn't affect him the same way. She was sure he was just doing those things out of a paternal affection for her.

So now, with his body pressed fully against hers, why couldn't she shake the feeling that maybe there really was something between them? Something she had never even bothered looking for? She was suddenly acutely conscious of how thin her nightie was, and how strong his arms felt around her. Before her breathing became erratic and she embarrassed herself, she pulled back and looked at him.

"Gibbs, seriously…what the hell is going on?"


	10. Chapter 10

*a/n: Working on my consistency with updating (woops), and you can expect a few more chapters where this came from. Please review, all feedback is appreciated.

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><p>Gibbs was grateful for the fact that Abby had pulled back when she did, before the sensation of holding her so intimately affected him in a way he wouldn't be able to hide. He focused on her face as he answered her question, willing himself not to let his gaze wander down to her transparent nightie and beautifully shaped legs.<p>

"Ah…sorry about your door, Abbs. I'll make you a new one. I rang the doorbell and called from outside, and your car was here so I got worried when you didn't answer."

Abby suddenly looked sheepish and apologetic. "Oh, shit. Um, I kind of turned in early tonight, like, for me anyway, and I totally SHOULD have heard the doorbell, or at least the phone, but I had put it on vibrate earlier. Jessica and I went out for dinner and drinks and I guess I overdid it a little. I don't think I even remembered to set my alarm. I must not be used to going out that much anymore, but wow, I can't believe two drinks is my limit. Um, was there something urgent though? I mean, why did you come over so late?"

Relieved that she wasn't furious at him for destroying her front door or scaring her half to death, he gently touched her arm and asked that they move to the couch so they could talk. She willingly obliged, albeit now with an obvious look of concern on her face over how serious his expression still seemed.

Once they were both seated on the couch, he turned his body toward her and began to explain the reason for his visit.

"Abbs, I found out some information from Tobias about Ms. Forsythe last night. He told me that she had a bad reputation within the bureau, and he was concerned about the fact that she had been the one chosen to recruit you." He paused, which was just enough time for her to make an assumption, incorrect as it was, about what the rest of the conversation held.

"Ohhh, is _that_ what this is all about? Jessica's been totally honest with me, I mean, I know she kind of…um…gets around, but I don't think that's any of Tobias' business really. It's not like I'm joining a cult or anything. We just go out sometimes and chat. It's sweet that he was worried, but you can tell him that she has me home by eleven on weeknights."

Gibbs sighed internally and looked at her beautiful, unaffected face. She seemed so carefree, and he tried to hold back the sickening feeling that came with knowing how much he was about to hurt her.

"Abbs…I'm sorry, but there's a lot more going on with Jessica Forsythe that you need to know."

He had printed all the information gathered by McGee earlier in the day, and now placed the folder on the coffee table in front of them. Opening it, he went through each document with her before explaining that he and Tony had interviewed Roger Cranston. It was after one in the morning when he finished repeating Cranston's statement.

"I'm so sorry, Abby." Tears had been streaming down her face since the part of Cranston's statement where he had described what Forsythe had done to his dog. She looked incredibly pale and couldn't stop shaking. Gibbs had taken her hand and squeezed it when she had begun to cry, and had continued to hold it until he was done speaking. He now squeezed it again and looked at her for a reaction, hoping that he would somehow be able to set this right, both for Cranston and for her.

Abby looked into Gibbs' eyes and could see her outrage reflected there. She opened her mouth to speak and could barely find the strength.

"His…his dog. Oh, my god, Gibbs…" She gulped in shuddering breaths and shut her eyes against the image she had attached to the story in her mind. She shook her head back and forth, trying to shake the horrifying truth from existence. She finally buried her face in her hands and continued to sob, unable to resign herself to having spent so much time in the company of the monster that Forsythe so obviously was.

Gibbs could feel the sadness burning in his chest as he pulled Abby into him. He held her head against his shoulder and let her tears soak through his shirt. She tightened her hold on him, wrapping both arms around his torso and bending her legs up onto the couch so that she could curl into him fully.

He wished he could absorb all of the sorrow, all of the anger out of her body just by holding onto her and rocking them. He willed that to happen, but she still clung to him, and he could feel her emotions through his skin, feel how shocked and broken she was. He thought that it would kill him, to have to keep feeling her this way.

After what seemed like hours to him, she had stopped crying and was breathing steadily. He realized she had fallen asleep, and so he loosened his hold on her, but didn't let go. There was no way in hell that he wouldn't still be holding her when she woke up.

He lifted one hand and pulled a tear-soaked strand of hair behind her ear, closing his eyes and summoning the last of his energy to whisper a promise to her before he allowed himself the luxury of sleep.

"We'll get justice, Abby. Forsythe will get what she deserves. We'll make sure of it. Like you and I always do."

He lowered his face to kiss her forehead, and then let himself relax. He willed himself to get an energizing night of rest, for tomorrow was sure to be a trying day for him and his team. Tomorrow, he would begin to fulfill his promise.


End file.
